Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 81

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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81. Thanks to that, I’ve finally set aside my worries.

The next morning.
Park Tae-hong awoke as bright sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains, his body tossing and turning restlessly on the bed.

“Ugh…”

His head throbbed dully from the alcohol he’d consumed until dawn, heavy and aching.
Moreover, his throat was parched like a desert, making it difficult even to speak, so Park Tae-hong sought water the moment he rose from bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grabbed the water cup with its lid still on from the nightstand and drank deeply, and only then did his thirst begin to subside.

“What time is it?”

Muttering to himself, he found his wristwatch and checked it—it had just passed ten in the morning.

“In the old days, I could drink until dawn and be fine the next day. I suppose I’m finally showing my age.”

Park Tae-hong’s expression turned bitter as he clutched his aching stomach and rose from the bed.
Shuffling into the master bathroom, he shook his head at the haggard face reflected in the mirror above the sink, then turned on cold water to wash his face.
Since it was the weekend, Park Tae-hong changed into comfortable clothes and emerged from the master bedroom, where Jo Deok-rye was sitting on the living room sofa sipping black tea and greeted her husband.

“You’re awake?”
“Yes.”

Park Tae-hong collapsed onto his usual seat on the sofa.

“How much did you drink last night?”
“It just happened that way.”
“Sigh.”

Jo Deok-rye was about to scold him further but, realizing he wouldn’t listen anyway, let out a small sigh and glanced toward the kitchen.

“Gunsan Housekeeper, could you come here for a moment?”

The Gunsan Housekeeper dried her wet hands on her apron and hurried over with quick steps.

“You called for me, ma’am.”
“Make me a glass of honey water and bring it here. And warm up the bean sprout soup for the chairman—he’ll need to eat.”
“Yes, ma’am.”

The moment Gunsan Housekeeper returned with the honey water, Park Tae-hong drained it in one long gulp as if he’d been waiting for exactly this.

“Ahh, that’s perfect. There really is nothing like honey water for curing a hangover.”

Jo Deok-rye watched him with a sidelong glance, yet she continued to attend to her husband without missing a beat.

“I made the bean sprout soup nice and spicy with red pepper powder, so even if your stomach feels off, don’t skip breakfast—have a proper meal to settle it.”
“Yes, dear.”

Park Tae-hong finished the honey water and set down the cup, then threw out a playful remark.

“There’s no one who looks after me like my wife does.”
“Are you feeling guilty about something? Stop it and just eat your breakfast.”
“Ha ha ha, all right.”

Park Tae-hong rose from the sofa with a lighthearted chuckle.
Jo Deok-rye, who had been clicking her tongue just moments before, also got up to join him at the table, unwilling to let her husband eat alone.
No matter what, she couldn’t bear the thought of him dining by himself.
As the two sat down at the kitchen table together, Gunsan Housekeeper set a full bowl of the pungent bean sprout soup before them.
Park Tae-hong took a spoonful, nodded his head, and wore a satisfied expression.

“My stomach feels completely settled. Did you add a bit more red pepper powder than usual?”
“You always say you crave something spicy the day after drinking. Don’t just have the broth—eat it with rice too.”
“All right.”

Park Tae-hong scooped a generous spoonful of rice and mixed it into the bean sprout soup.
Beside him, Jo Deok-rye tore up some fresh mustard greens—Park Tae-hong’s favorite—with her chopsticks and placed them on his spoon.
As Park Tae-hong ate the rice topped with mustard greens, he broke into a broad, delighted smile.

“The mustard greens taste even better when Jo Deok-rye gives them to me.”
“Don’t flatter me like that.”
“I’m serious. There’s a deep, savory richness to it—it’s all thanks to your touch, Jo Deok-rye.”
“Hmph.”

Jo Deok-rye cast a sidelong glance with feigned displeasure, yet her actions betrayed her true feelings as she continued to tear the kimchi into pieces with her chopsticks and place them on his plate.
The Gunsan Housekeeper, who had retreated toward the kitchen, witnessed this scene and deliberately turned away, concealing her smile so it wouldn’t show.
Compared to other chaebol families where couples maintained the facade of harmony despite poor relationships—mere display windows of matrimonial theater—Park Tae-hong and his wife enjoyed a genuinely affectionate bond.

* * *

After this leisurely late breakfast, Park Tae-hong settled into the sofa in his Study Room, where a cool breeze drifted through the open windows, and spent his time contentedly reading the morning paper alongside his aromatic coffee.
It was then that Seok-won, his second son, knocked and entered, speaking.

“Father, I have something to discuss with you. Do you have a moment?”
“Come in.”

Seok-won closed the door and settled onto the empty sofa to the right.
Park Tae-hong folded the morning paper in half and set it on the table, turning his attention to his second son.

“What is it you wish to discuss?”

Meeting his gaze directly, Seok-won broached the subject.

“I heard you’re scheduled to visit the Blue House next week for a private audience with the President.”
“That’s right.”

President Kim Sung-gyu, who had been reluctant to meet with business leaders, had refrained from any individual meetings until last year.
However, upon the counsel of his advisors that such meetings were necessary to address anti-business sentiment while simultaneously engaging in candid discussions on economic matters and stimulating investment, he had begun conducting private audiences with the heads of the top thirty conglomerates sequentially since early this year.
Though Daheung Group ranked considerably lower, it still fell within the top thirty, and thus a meeting with the President had been arranged as nearly the final appointment.
At the sudden mention of a presidential audience, Park Tae-hong’s eyes narrowed as he regarded his son.

“Have you decided what gift to bring to the Blue House?”

Since the presidential audience was fundamentally confidential, conversations difficult to have in public settings could take place there.
In essence, such meetings served as forums for resolving grievances and addressing various concerns through direct dialogue with the President.
The problem was that this process involved a reciprocal “give and take,” which could invite suspicions of collusion between politics and business.

‘That’s precisely why President Kim Sung-gyu had been reluctant to meet with business tycoons.’

Having sharply criticized the political-business collusion of entrenched politicians during his opposition years, he could not afford to invite unnecessary misunderstandings through his actions.

“I’m still deliberating on it.”

Park Tae-hong’s brow furrowed slightly as he spoke.

“In the old days, I could simply gather some political funds and hand them over to the Chief Secretary. But this administration is cut from different cloth, and it’s proving to be quite the headache.”
“That makes sense. Though Kim Sung-gyu became president through the three-party merger and entered the Blue House, he’s a man with strong opposition leanings from years of democracy activism.”
“Exactly my point. If I carelessly offer slush funds the way I used to, it could backfire entirely. Yet going empty-handed leaves me deeply uneasy.”

All the other conglomerates had already delivered their slush funds—if Park Tae-hong alone showed up without any gift, he risked falling completely out of favor with the president.

‘It’s like going in to have a mole removed and coming out with an extra one attached.’

Of course, unlike those brutal military regime days, the group wouldn’t be dismantled in an instant just for displeasing the president.

‘But from a corporate standpoint, there’s nothing more nerve-wracking or anxiety-inducing than becoming awkward with the Blue House.’

Park Tae-hong lifted his teacup, took a sip of coffee, and grumbled with a grimace.

“And I can’t very well ask the other chairmen who met with him first whether they gave slush funds. That’s what makes this so frustrating.”

If word leaked out, it could become a major scandal, and the other party might gain leverage over him—so even if he asked, they would never tell.

“That’s why I’ve brought a solution to your dilemma.”
“You have?”

Park Tae-hong regarded him with suspicion.

“Yes.”

Seok-won confidently placed the printed papers on the table.

“What is this?”
“A gift I’ve prepared.”

Park Tae-hong picked up the printed papers and examined them, his frown deepening with bewilderment.

“Isn’t this a photograph of a cargo ship?”
“Yes, it is.”

Park Tae-hong studied the black-and-white photograph of the cargo ship once more, then looked at his second son with an expression of complete incomprehension.

“Just looking at it, it seems like a terribly old ship—surely this isn’t the gift you’re talking about?”

Seeing the lukewarm gaze, Seok-won smiled and explained the cargo vessel.

“It’s a Victory-class transport ship that the United States mass-produced as a successor to the Liberty ships during World War II.”

In fact, after the Pearl Harbor attack left them thoroughly enraged and the United States declared an all-out production war, the number of Victory-class transport ships they churned out in just a few years reached an astounding 600 vessels.

“If it was built during World War II, it’s a derelict ship over 40 years old.”

Watching Chairman Park Tae-hong furrow his brow, wondering why he’d brought such a hunk of scrap metal, Seok-won continued.

“Though it’s faintly marked and hard to see clearly, the bow should have ‘SS Meredith Victory’ written on it.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”

This was still before the exploits of the SS Meredith Victory during the Hungnam Evacuation Operation—what had been called the Miracle of Christmas—became widely known domestically.

‘It was only a brief topic during the Korean War, and it’s been forgotten in America as well.’

The ship that had been recognized for its achievements during the Hungnam Evacuation Operation and even received the designation “Gallant Ship” from the U.S. Congress had ended up being sold as scrap metal to China for this very reason.

‘No one knew what kind of ship the SS Meredith Victory was. It was perhaps inevitable that the Korean Embassy to the United States didn’t learn of it beforehand and couldn’t prevent the sale.’

Still, considering that a diplomat’s role was to grasp the details of what happened in the host country and report it back home, one couldn’t say they’d done their job properly.
Seok-won brushed aside the thought that had suddenly occurred to him and continued speaking.

“During the Hungnam Evacuation Operation, several Victory-class transport ships were deployed, and they distinguished themselves by taking aboard numerous American soldiers and refugees, evacuating them southward.”
“….”
“In particular, the SS Meredith Victory carried 14,500 refugees—far exceeding its capacity—and was the last to depart Hungnam Harbor, becoming the ship that rescued the most lives and even making it into the Guinness Book of Records.”

Chairman Park Tae-hong, who had been wearing a withered expression, straightened his upper body with eyes gleaming as he listened to Seok-won’s story.

“What’s even more remarkable is that when the ship safely arrived at Geoje Island on Christmas Day and the refugees disembarked, five new lives had been born during the voyage, increasing the number by that many.”
“My goodness.”

Hearing this remarkable story for the first time, Chairman Park Tae-hong let out an exclamation.

“It’s said that when President Truman heard this report, he called it the greatest Christmas gift of his life.”
“I would have felt the same way.”

Unlike his earlier indifference, Park Tae-hong’s eyes gleamed with renewed interest as he gazed once more at the printed photograph of the SS Meredith Victory.

“As time passed, the ship was sold for scrap and was on the verge of being decommissioned when I purchased it.”
“Is that truly so?”

Park Tae-hong’s eyes widened in surprise.

“It’s a vessel that carries the pain and history of the Korean War intact. I couldn’t simply stand by and watch it be dismantled into scrap metal.”
“Hmm.”

Watching Park Tae-hong nod gently, Seok-won spoke in a measured tone.

“After some basic repairs, I plan to bring it to Korea. How would it be to present it as a gift during this private audience?”

A spark of interest ignited in Park Tae-hong’s eyes.

“You mean this?”

Seok-won continued with a smile playing at his lips.

“Last year’s various unfortunate major disasters and pressing political issues have caused approval ratings to fall below their initial levels.”
“That’s true.”
“At a time when a shift in atmosphere is needed, bringing the ship that showed a miracle during the Hungnam evacuation operation to Korea would immediately capture the people’s attention and boost approval ratings, wouldn’t it?”

Upon hearing this, Park Tae-hong slapped his knee with his palm.

“He does love surprise spectacles, so this would be a gift that perfectly suits the President’s taste.”
“Rather than handing over risky political funds for future considerations, this approach has greater legitimacy and would be more effective.”
“You’re right. It’s far better than being humiliated despite giving money, like during the Fifth Republic hearings.”

The experience of being summoned during the Fifth Republic hearings and being humiliated before the entire nation, forced to expose their secrets, had left considerable trauma among the conglomerate chairmen.
In truth, it was more about preventing inadvertent entanglement in the scandal involving President Kim Sung-gyu’s son that would later emerge, but Seok-won saw no need to elaborate on that point.
Park Tae-hong beamed with a radiant smile, repeatedly praising it as a brilliant idea.

“I’ve been worrying about what to bring to the President, but this solves everything. How did you come up with such a thought?”

Seok-won responded humbly to the warm gaze directed at him, as if looking at a treasure.

“I was fortunate. I had intended to donate the SS Meredith Victory that I purchased to the nation, but when I heard that Father was having a private audience with the President at the Blue House, it occurred to me that I might as well bring this as a gift.”
“That’s precisely what quick thinking and good sense look like. In any case, thanks to you, I can finally breathe easy.”

Park Tae-hong beamed with genuine delight, laughing broadly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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